The Challenge
by LilyBartAndTheOthers
Summary: It was just supposed to be a challenge, an innocent and delightful game. WK fic  Thank you very much Geedee for your reviews!
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

He had fallen asleep, his breath caressing her bare shoulder with a peaceful regularity; his lips planted there, in the depth of her neck. For long minutes she had wondered if he would go back to his very own bedroom on the other side of the corridor - perhaps mumbling a few excuses along – but instead he had simply settled against her and closed his eyes with a troubling logic.

He assumed his acts, the fact that they had slept together and that from then on, it wouldn't be the same anymore. His attitude was taking her aback – letting her embarrassed – and now she was the one who happened to have doubts.

His hand was warm on her lower stomach, bringing along a sensation she had almost forgotten after all these years of lonely moments spent in the immensity of her life. It had been sweet, and delicate. Ideas were twirling around in her head, bumping into each other and trying to make sense but confusion was the only notion she seemed to be able to clutch to somehow.

Very slowly, she turned her head around and looked at him in the dark. Her eyes had got accustomed to the lack of light and she could picture out his face, the shapes of his arms. He was naked – his clothes abandoned haphazardly on the floor – and yet warmed up her own body. She had shivered when they had kissed, when he had undressed her and made her his. Oddly enough, she hadn't thought about that before; how it would turn out once they would end up in bed together. But now she could say it: he was a good lover, in spite of everything.

With an extreme delicacy – to not wake him up – she got up and headed to the bathroom, turned on the lights there. She let the door open ajar so the golden shade of the lamp came to slide on the bed and she went to her bag, took her cell phone out of it.

She didn't have to think about it twice. If she did, she knew that it would compromise the rest, and the reason why she was standing there naked in the first place; a few feet away from him, in the middle of the night. Perhaps the situation wasn't fair for everyone but it wasn't the right time to stop on some sort of sentimentalism. It was too late for that.

Her knee brushed the mattress and carefully enough, she lay down by his side. He didn't move an inch, didn't seem to notice her nocturnal coming and going nor the way her head settled against his on a very suggestive way. The blanket had slid down to his waist. She was topless. An arm protectively over her chest, she rose the cell phone and swallowed hard; pressed the key. A brief glance to the result turned out to be enough and she silently headed back to the bathroom, closing the door behind her this time.

Her makeup had vanished now, taken away by their consecutive kisses and their lustful caresses. For a few seconds she remained still and observed her reflection in the mirror. The light was cruel suddenly, emphasizing the depth of her features dug by a fatigue, a couple of remorse maybe and the weight of a heavy life; not such a happy one to be more exact.

A sigh accompanied her silent wonders and sweeping away whatever thought was passing by her mind, she focused on her cell phone instead; browsed through the messaging options. Her heart was beating slowly – a perfect control over her breathing – as she enclosed the picture she had just taken and went into her contacts.

_Title: Will and I_

_Text: Challenge accepted, done and over – here is the proof, I won_

Perhaps she hesitated for a few seconds but then she remembered the reason that had pushed her to do it; the fact she would have never accepted someone else to win. She was too proud to ever abdicate and give up the game like that.

_Message sent to: Grace Adler_

She didn't delete the photo, just in case. Slowly enough and trying to ignore her shaking hands, she put down the cell phone on the counter top and after taking off her contact lenses meticulously proceeded to get rid of what was left of her makeup.

The silence was cold around her, sending shivers down her spine. She felt lonely, a bit disarmed as well perhaps. Turning the lights off, she headed back to bed – slid under the blanket – and finally settled a few inches from him.

For long seconds, she wondered what would happen the next morning when he woke up and realized that it hadn't been a mere, confusing dream. She had always hated these moments, even more when it had to deal with friendship. And a challenge with Grace, over Will.

**Established Rules **

**1. Seven days from now – if by Sunday the challenge hasn't been taken up it will be considered as over**

**2. No alcohol nor drugs can be used in order to influence a third party – at absolutely no moment; Will has to be fully conscious of his acts**

**3. The challenge has to remain secret – if revealed, it will be considered as over and lost by the contestant who has confessed it**

**4. A suggestive photo sent to the other contestant will be the only proof accepted to confirm the success over the challenge**

**5. The challenge consists on Karen's eventual one-night stand with Will – no definite place or time – it is up to both**

**6. If Karen wins she will have full rights and decisions over the next design project and will lead the negotiations with the client – if Grace wins she will expect serious and dedicated work from her assistant, Karen, for an entire month**

**Deal made in New York City, June 16th **


	2. Place Your Bets

**Chapter One**

**A week earlier – June, 16th**

When she had turned fifteen years old, people's gaze on her had changed – becoming more insisting – especially from boys and men. Her curves were well defined, attractive enough. All of a sudden she had left the world of invisibility for the spotlights of a precocious adult life and it hadn't taken very long till her naivety got swept away by some suggestive, daring games. Wrong choices and wrong people – she would say now, many years later. She had made mistakes but learned from them.

Seducing was like a dance, one was leading when the other could only abdicate and if you didn't want to end up in pain then having the first role suddenly turned out to be paramount. A few failures and she had stuck to this principle with such dedication that she had become a master in the art of seduction – using the only weapon she really owned at the end: her body. Nobody had ever resisted.

_What kind of enchantress are you?_

_Irresistible, hard to get, too shy to ever make the first step_

Her red, perfectly manicured nails brushed the title of the so-called psychological test as a smile grew on her lips. Sometimes she assumed that seducing people was the most shallow thing ever and it made her blush, feeling a bit ashamed to use it every so and then to reach her aims. But she had succeeded at the end and perhaps it was all she should keep in mind instead of losing herself in eternal wonders and doubts.

"What is it that you are suddenly smiling so much?"

Amused, she tended the article to Grace and took a sip of her black coffee. The sun was now piercing through the windows, sliding on the carpets and the wooden furniture in a wave of delicate warmth. It felt good to witness the summer slowly spread over New York, bringing back a rainbow of colors and scents – a boiling life that the previous months had kind of quieted down.

"And which one do you think you are, in all honesty?"

"Why obviously I am irresistible, honey."

Grace's incredulous gaze took her aback. She might have lacked self-confidence for a lot of things but when it came to seduction, she knew that her inhibitions simply disappeared as a whole machine set off inside of her. It was instinctive now, almost too easy.

"Hard to get maybe but I am sure that you aren't irresistible. As a matter of fact, I even suspect you to be extremely shy when you begin to fall for someone."

"Since when seduction has to be about feelings?"

If her question had come up naturally, it troubled Grace who remained quiet for a few seconds before finally nodding slowly. For some reason she seemed to find an entertaining shade in all of this, the way their conversation was turning into. Perhaps she needed something lighter after Leo's departure for yet another mission overseas.

"Indeed, it doesn't necessarily has to be about feelings but still... Irresistible? I am sure that you would not be able to get every single man on this planet in your bed even if you wanted to. It is just impossible."

Self-esteem – the notion had sounded far and complex for too long before she had had a chance to taste it. Then within a second, she had grown addicted to it, perhaps too much at times but it had matched so perfectly her ambition; this determination to succeed in everything. And without knowing it, Grace had stirred up a sentiment of pride there – years of doubts and pain – that she couldn't ignore any longer.

"Is that a challenge?"

The word resounded loud in the office, carried on by a boldness that made Grace laugh a bit nervously. If months later Karen were asked to think retrospectively about this exact day then maybe she would have to recognize that she had come up with the idea of a challenge first; that her friend had simply followed and accepted the deal. And that at this precise moment – when the question slid on her lips – she might have had subconsciously settled down the rest of her life.

"You mean... I pick up someone and challenge you to... Hmm... Let's say, sleep with him? It could be rather interesting, indeed. Though not so tough for you since apparently nobody can resist."

"Whomever you choose, I accept the deal."

Perhaps she said so for her very own person, as if to reassure herself since Stanley was gone. He had chosen Lorraine instead, forgotten her – his wife – in the first place. It had hurt and still did but it might have been time to move on then prove to everyone that she was strong enough to do so.

Grace remained silent for long seconds, focused on a wall of the office; obviously lost in her wonders, weighing the pros and the cons. As a smile played on her lips, it appeared clearly that she had made her choice and sounded very confident about it.

"Will."

"Will like in Will Truman? You want me to sleep with Will?"

Putting the fashion magazine down on her desk, Grace nodded and grabbed her mug of coffee; took a sip. She seemed calm, extremely amused and not the slightest threatened by what she had just said. On the contrary, her eyes were lit up by a strong self-confidence as if she had already won even before the challenge starting.

"Will like in Will Truman, indeed. Is it a problem for you? Apart from the fact he is gay, of course. And not the slightest bit interested in you on a sexual way, that is."

The truth was that the fact Grace had chosen Will over Jack was relieving enough. Perhaps with a lot of time and dedication, she would have managed to end up in bed with Jack but with Will the task seemed easier; and rather appealing as well. Discarding her mug, Karen tended her hand, shook her friend's and raised her eyebrows defiantly.

"Consider it as done, Gracie."


	3. Step By Step

**Chapter Two**

**Step By Step – June 17th **

Behind her sunglasses, she observed him as he passed the door and made it to the terrace – heading to the table she had chosen, next to some contemporary statue. Glass of Chardonnay in hand, she smiled at him as he quietly settled down in his own chair.

The gray sky of the morning had faded away for quite a while now, temperatures rising unexpectedly. It was one of these hot days in the city when breathing burnt your lungs and cruelly reminded you of the absence of breeze. The sun was hitting hard on the roof of the museum and it must be why he went to his tie immediately - to loosen it - but his fingers slid on the expensive silk, several times. Abandoning her glass on the table, she bent over and did it for him; her fingertips brushing his throat, his collar bone as she unbuttoned his shirt.

_Let's start the game, Karen..._

"Thanks."

"You are welcome, honey."

Settling further in her chair, she took a sip of her drink and looked aside. The view was breathtaking – not as intimate as she had hoped, for tourists coming and going around – but the trees of Central Park in full blossom offered a unique, peaceful break from the life boiling down in the streets.

"I didn't know that you appreciated a lunch break at The MET."

She let him order a drink and waited patiently for the waiter to go away before replying. After having accepted Grace's challenge, she had gone back to her hotel suite immediately and spent the rest of the evening elaborating a thousand strategies. But now that she was facing him, none of them seemed right enough, appropriate so that she could win the challenge.

_Seduction is about instinct, come on and do it._

"I was born in Manhattan. I can't live without this view once in a while and The River Cafe being a bit too far, this terrace offers an excellent compromise. Besides it isn't every day that you can say you have lunch among modern art."

With a vague gesture of the head, she pointed out at the statues all around – their shadows sliding with quietness on the tiled floor, bringing thus another dimension to the place; a surreal one. Her comment made him laugh. She couldn't help but smile.

She wished he hadn't put his sunglasses on and she would have been able to look directly into his eyes.

She wished a lot of things right now, too many of them perhaps.

"Stanley faxed me a couple of papers I would like you to sign."

For a few seconds she forgot about the challenge and concentrated only on the pain that spread over her heart; some sort of burning - anger running out of it. She clenched her teeth and nodded before taking a sip of her Chardonnay but the glass was already empty. She needed a new one immediately.

"He won't return my calls. We have been married for seven years and all of a sudden he refuses to talk to me. Men are coward, and cruel."

Her comment left him disarmed if not embarrassed and for a few seconds none of them dared to speak. She was about to regret her words – already seeing herself make a step backwards in the challenge that opposed her to Grace – when his hand came to hold hers tightly. It was an unexpected move, sweet and sincere.

"I agree with you on that one but guess what? It seems like we can't live without them either so perhaps there are a couple of them – here, outside in this world – who deserve to get some attention. It is just a matter of time..."

The waiter brought their plates, filled her glass again. Fork in hand, she stared at her Caesar salad and shook her hand after what seemed like an eternity. The truth was that she had never believed in any of this. In her head, the process of a relationship was extremely Cartesian and nothing was left to a kind of fate, nor accidents. You saw someone and went for him – that was all. Exit romanticism and daydreams typical from movies. Reality was bare, too abrupt for this.

"What if this person – the right one or whatever you want to call him – is already part of our life? What if we shouldn't look around and in other spheres because he is there, by our side; in front of us? And all the rest like searching for him all the time would be nothing but the best way to miss him out for... I don't know, for being blind or just too coward to admit something like that. To assume feelings."

"Well, it is an interesting thesis. Now I don't know if... I mean, you think so?"

She was making him uncomfortable. Hiding a smile behind her glass of wine, she shrugged at him and had a look at Central Park, the skylines of The Upper West Side in the distance. It seemed too far, almost unreachable. She hated that.

"What I know. I am getting a divorce for the second time so it is like asking an elephant about the art of delicacy and elegance..."

"You are too hard with yourself."

"No, just lonely. And abandoned, perhaps."

As his hand brushed her cheek, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He planted a kiss there, at the corner of her lips – with an odd sweetness.

This was something she liked about Will. As much as they spent a lot of time teasing each other, it was obvious that in the toughest moments she would always find him by her side. She could rely on him, a lot more than what people actually imagined.

_Rule number one:_

_when seducing someone, you don't necessarily have to lie_


	4. Roman Holiday

**Chapter Three**

**Roman Holiday – June 18th**

"Stay over for the night."

She had kissed Jack on the cheek and looked at him leave the apartment when the words had come up in her back, soft enough; calm. She had turned around on her heels and locked her eyes with his brown ones – waited for a few seconds – then nodded, giving him a polite smile. The rain falling hard over the city had probably played a determining role in his suggestion but the challenge in mind, the opportunity had been too big to miss it out.

She was using him. She didn't like it – for Will having a sincere place in her heart – but it was true and she couldn't deny it. Cowardly enough she simply tried to ignore such a shameful fact and went on for a ridiculous pride. It went above a mere competitive spirit. She had to win; as if her life depended on it.

_Points in common, work on this_

Thanking him in silence for the mug of tea he had brought, she took her stilettos off and settled further on the couch; under a woolen blanket. The rain was hitting against the window behind, carrying along an odd melody to the place. He sat by her side at a respectable distance and after having taken a sip of his own tea, grabbed the remote control of the television to start the movie.

They could have talked about literature for hours but as he had suggested to watch Roman Holiday, she had gladly accepted. They both shared an unconditional love for black and white movies, a detail they kept quiet for whatever reason since the day they had bumped into each other at a Fellini retrospective in Brooklyn. For a few seconds she had thought about lying, coming up with an excuse to her presence there before finally abdicating to a rather pleasant truth. He hadn't seemed to mind that much, had not made fun of her – on the contrary, he had sat down next to her and they had spent the rest of the day at some bar talking about movies.

It hadn't led anywhere because they hadn't repeated it. She had attended other retrospectives but had not invited him neither had he. This was the frustration of their relation: it owned the shades of the most serious friendships but yet they never crossed the lines of the surface and so they didn't talk that much, didn't share a lot; probably missed out the most of their potential relation.

_It is time for it to change_

"This is how Rome should be visited, hopped on a motorcycle and clutched so tightly to the person you are in love with."

She smiled to the sound of his laugh then shrugged in an attempt to confirm her unexpected remark; as if she hadn't been joking, as if she couldn't have been more serious. And she was somehow for having watched Audrey Hepburn a hundred times running through the streets of the Italian capital.

"Why, it is true! This city is too beautiful for lonely, broken souls..."

"I suppose so."

Grabbing the remote control and putting the movie on pause, Karen sat up on the couch before looking at Will with perplexity. Under the sudden movement, the woolen blanket slid down her lap and only got stopped by his hand as he quickly grabbed it, brushing thus her thigh. She smiled at the touch, her eyes locked with his.

"You have never been to Rome?"

With a slightly embarrassed smile, Will shook his head before replacing the woolen blanket properly on her lap and his. The gesture was sweet, along with his sudden timidity and for a couple of seconds she felt like giving up on any kind of challenge, any kind of rather cruel game. He looked fragile somehow, terribly human; disconcerting.

"How come?"

"I don't know... I haven't found the right person to hop on a motorcycle with, I suppose."

She couldn't help but smile at his remark. There was something peculiar between the two of them when they didn't argue; something warm and beautiful. She couldn't name it but as soon as it happened, she felt how her heart seemed to soften and beat with strength as if it were invincible.

But one more time reality caught her back and her smile faded away under the reminiscence of a few unfortunate memories.

"I spent my honeymoon there with Stanley. Looks like I wasn't clutched tightly enough to him..."

"You love him, don't you?"

_Let him believe that you need his arms to cry in_

She looked aside, bit her lower lip and shrugged. There was nobody else in the room – nobody he could talk to – so why bothering to use lies?

"In my own way..."

She let him take the remote control and go back to the movie but instead of keeping her distance with him, she leaned her head on his shoulder; slowly enough. He didn't say anything, didn't make the mere comment and as she brought the blanket up to their necks, he passed his arms around her frame in some protective attempt.

None of them spoke until the trailers vanished from the television screen and they found themselves in the dark of the apartment with as only acolyte the rain hitting hard on the windows. It was late and time to go to sleep but the warmth of the woolen blanket – the heat of each other's arms – didn't help them in a desire to move away.

"I don't want to spend the night alone."

Her confession – even if murmured – resounded loud in the room, full of fear and distress. Will didn't reply but a few minutes later as she stepped out of the bathroom, Karen realized that he hadn't turned the lights on in Grace's old bedroom; hadn't made the bed, there. Wearing the top of one of his pajamas that brushed her legs mid-thighs, she settled under the blanket by his side and without a word planted a kiss on his cheek before rolling on a side and closing her eyes.

_Rule number two: let the mask fall down for a little while_


	5. Taking Some Distance

**Chapter Four**

**Taking Some Distance – June 19th**

"What are you waiting for?"

"You gave me a week."

"I know, but we are halfway through it."

"I am building things up, little by little. As a matter of fact, we shared the same bed last night."

"Which I have done more than once."

"Maybe but for me it was the first time... And obviously not the last one."

The doors of the elevator opened at this exact moment – responding to a perfect synchronization – and with self-confidence, she stepped out of it then made it to Will's apartment while Grace followed her in silence a few steps behind. She knew that her friend was staring at her, probably trying to minimize her last comment because things were happening and nobody could deny it. She had spent the whole night with him before waking up by his side – and they had talked, again. Will was like that. He needed the sound of words to slowly open his arms. A stage had been reached and they had just made it to a very delicate one.

_Take your time, don't rush into things_

An evening with friends, far from the dark and lonely confessions she had come up with lately; it was exactly what she needed in order to end up sleeping with him then win the challenge. For the past hours she hadn't thought about anything but it, elaborating a thousand Machiavellian schemes – more or less ridiculous scenarios – in her head. Though at some point all these ideas got mixed and suddenly enough she found herself fantasizing about nothing else but him. She wondered about the way he kissed, what his lips tasted of and whether his hands would caress her body with delicacy or rather roughly. She had spent too much time alone, missed human contact – being cared about for a little while.

Sat in front of him at the table, she remained focused on Jack all along; as if nothing had happened, as if she hadn't slid under the covers of his bed then kissed him goodnight the day before. Somehow she would have preferred to give him a smile and lose herself in some conversation with him. Time used to pass by too fast when they did and helped her forget a couple of things.

"By the way, we will leave around ten on Saturday morning. Since I called the pastry chef, I need to be there when they deliver the cake – around noon, I guess."

"Forty-five years... Can you believe that your parents have been married for so long?"

The word "marriage" had always caught up her attention but if at the beginning it had seemed to shine and sound appealing, with the years it had lost its magic to the point it hurt whenever she heard it. With shaking hands she quietly grabbed her glass of wine and tried to heal the pain through a sip. It used to work – at some point – but now it barely made the slightest change and so she remained there, smiling a bit ridiculously in the hope it would bury her tears.

"I am not sure the last ten years can be considered as your typical marriage but well... It gives them an excuse to invite a hundred people they haven't talked to in years for a weekend in The Hamptons."

The first time she had got married, she had hoped for something like this – wedding anniversaries that the passing of time would only sweeten, make beautiful for love being so strong. Reality had only had other perspectives for her own life and she had divorced several times.

_Choose the right words, look at him_

"They still had thirty-five years of shared happiness. A whole life in a word..."

Perhaps because she had murmured the comment with a vivid truth – a bitter seriousness – and not her usual lightness everyone stared at her in silence. Swallowing hard and ignoring the heat rushing up her cheeks, she locked her eyes with Will's. He seemed troubled if not just uncomfortable; the shadows of her divorce from Stanley still floating somewhere upon.

"Yes... True enough..."

She left relatively early, before he had a chance to ask her for anything and maybe go into some remake of their previous evening. It didn't have to look the same twice or they would grow accustomed to this sudden closeness and it wasn't right; wasn't appropriate.

Back to her hotel suite – her plans to find an apartment having been put on pause for whatever reason – she hurried to the bathroom and filled the tub, poured bubble bath. The scent of strawberry invaded the room, embraced the steam and wrapped up her skin. She needed quietness, the delicacy of the water on her body and the sentiment that everything would be alright; no mattered she didn't wear any wedding band anymore on her finger. She still felt naked without it, a bit unbalanced.

She had just closed her eyes – the rest of her body plunged in the water – and leaned her head against the marble edge of the tub when her cell phone rang, piercing the silence of the suite.

_You seduce men ignoring them?_

_I am not sure it is very effective... _

_Will hasn't mentioned you since you left!_

_Grace_

A smile played on her lips as she sat up in the tub and looked for the right words to send a reply to her friend.

_You shouldn't underestimate me like that, honey_

_You will see soon enough what I mean_

_Karen_

An hour later while reading in bed – warm under the cover, the expensive sheets of the hotel – her cell phone rang again. It was close to midnight now, the moon sweeping away the last shades of the evening with an intimate gaze; almost a timid one.

_I am sorry for tonight..._

_All I want is to see you smile, I hate when you are in pain_

_Goodnight, Kare_

_Will_

Victory boiling in her lower stomach, she bit her lower lip to restrain a bright smile that wanted nothing but to play on her lips, light up her eyes that were already glimmering. She took her time to reply, looked for the right words before falling asleep reading his message over and over.

_Rule number three: indifference and mystery are terribly appealing_


	6. You and I

**Chapter Five**

**You and I – June, 20th**

The summer had arrived along with the rain in the morning as if the sky weren't ready to be blue yet – as if gray clouds matched its mood better – and the temperatures had suddenly lowered, sweeping away the bright light of the past few weeks. It was just like making a step backwards towards April showers, umbrellas getting broken under the strong wind while all you wanted was staying by the fireplace, mug of hot chocolate in hand.

Slowly enough, her finger approached the window she was sat by and followed the transparent path a raindrop traced down. Once Grace had left, she hadn't bothered to turn the lights on and all of a sudden she had found herself almost in the dark – her head leaned against the window, observing the rain that fell down over Manhattan. The office was quiet, too much perhaps. She didn't like staying there on her own. It reminded her of The Upper East Side mansion, these years of silence that had ended up ruining her marriage with Stan.

He didn't knock on the door, simply came in and abandoned his briefcase by her desk; his umbrella by the elevator. His trench coat was soaked wet though – he had probably walked down for a while, cabs mysteriously disappearing when the rain made it to Manhattan.

She smiled at him with honesty before taking a sip of coffee; her eyes locked with his. She didn't want to speak first, not after the text message he had sent her the previous night. He had thought about her to the point of making it concrete enough. It meant something and she was sure that if she had told Grace about it her friend would have frozen, swallowed hard.

Because Karen wasn't Grace. They didn't share with Will the same, strong background. She had just appeared in their life at some point – by accident somehow – and her relation to him had nothing to do with the past he shared with Grace.

"Shakespeare in the park."

She didn't say a word, just raised dubious eyebrows to his comment before going to sit down on a stool near Grace's desk.

"Aren't we supposed to celebrate the summer? I can have tickets, would you be interested and come to some performance with me?"

"It doesn't take place in June."

"You have other plans for the next two months? I was rather curious to attend their adaptation of _The Tempest_."

She looked how he grabbed a stool, placed it next to hers and sat down there. Obviously he didn't mind about Grace's absence unless he actually knew about it and had taken advantage of the situation to stop by and have a talk with her; spend some time together, alone.

"_Much Ado About Nothing_... If this one is scheduled then I will come with you."

"Is it your favorite one?"

A disillusioned smile on her lips, she looked aside and shrugged. Her hands seemed clutched to the old coffee mug, as if she owed her balance to it and couldn't let go of it; at absolutely no moment.

"I just think that it summarizes a lot of things in this life, most of them actually."

_Don't forget to look fragile_

It took him aback. The words had hit the air – the silence of the office – with the abruptness of an odd, terrible melancholy. Perhaps she had simply followed something buried deep inside because it sounded too strong, too bitter to be pure lies. _Much Ado About Nothing_... Just like her divorce from Stanley, just like the challenge about Will?

About everything and so you would have no reason to be sad because it wouldn't be important at the end; just mere details on an upside down, lonely path.

"How about _A Midsummer Night's Dream_?"

She took a sip of coffee but it had got cold meanwhile. Discarding the mug on the desk, she leaned her chin against the palm of her hands and frowned, concentrating on his question. Will was the only one with whom she could talk about literature, and art. So every time it happened, she took her time – fed herself of the warm feeling it stirred up. It was far from the cold, materialist conversations of Stan.

"You mean because it alludes to this permanent conflict with society?"

"No, for the opposition between the night – world of dreams, mess and fantasies – and the day when it is about order and reality. We lead a double-life though one is rather quiet, secretive. Because it takes place in our mind, when we are sleeping."

_Don't miss out your opportunity, be attentive_

"I have to go now. Have a nice evening... With Jack, right?"

She nodded but remained quiet as his remark about Shakespeare's play was slowly embracing her mind and troubling it at the most. It had sounded like a confession, through half-words perhaps but still, there it was.

He didn't stand up to grab his briefcase – his umbrella – then leave. Instead and against all expectations she saw him lean over, coming dangerously close to her. Instinctively she closed her eyes, felt how her heart suddenly began to beat fast. It hadn't happened for such a long time...

As his lips captured hers, something started boiling in her lower stomach and she restrained a gasp; let him do. The kiss was chaste – sweet enough – but spreading so much heat over her body that she began to shake uncontrollably. He broke apart – too long after for the kiss being a mere gesture of tenderness towards a friend – and winced at her, then left as quietly as he had come in.

_Rule number four: there is no such a thing as when he leaves you disarmed_


	7. Nobody Around

**Chapter Six**

**Nobody Around – June, 21st**

The colors had faded through the years – the consecutive touches damaging the paper – but the smile remained bright, just like the flame in the little boy's brown eyes. He looked determined posing next to a tree in what seemed to be a backyard; determined but fragile enough, secretive. Obviously he would need an entire decade – a bit more maybe – to build up the self-confidence that made of him the impartial lawyer he was now.

"Now I want to see one of yours."

Still lost in the observation of the photo she was holding, Karen grabbed the shoebox she had brought and tended it to him. When accepting his invitation over for dinner and some childhood retrospective - result of a conversation over photo albums- apprehension had spread on her mind and she had hurried back to her hotel suite to check which photos Will could actually see.

He had sent her emails, not made any phone call as if the clandestine nature of his offer was the mere result of the kiss he had given her the day before. Perhaps within the next hours after he had left her at the office, doubts and interrogations had made it to his head and there he had stood; confused and a bit embarrassed. A written message was easier to reach her then; letting him some time to finally assume a face-to-face.

"Braids?"

Picking up another photo, she furtively cast a glance at Will and shrugged. As soon as she had arrived, they had rushed to his bedroom where he kept all his childhood albums and settling on his bed they had begun to compare their respective shots.

_Accept his request, make a few compromises_

She didn't like talking about her past but before his demand, she hadn't been able to turn him down. In other circumstances perhaps but this one was a too big opportunity to get closer to him – and eventually win the challenge – to ever refuse. It was all about controlling her words, the information she was eager to give; as tiny as the details actually were.

"My hair was very long... I needed braids if I wanted to be able to go and run around."

"And go fishing obviously. Who is the man next to you?"

This time she let go of the photo she was holding of Will on vacations in Florida and grabbed the one he had picked up; swallowed hard. She should have been more meticulous when going through all the shots she had kept for the evening because this one had nothing to do there; yet barely in her life at all if she had to be honest.

"My father... He died of a heart attack a few months later."

She hated when seconds suddenly seemed to slow down until time looked like nothing but eternity. It always happened at a bad moment when you felt like crying – disappearing in a hole – and close your eyes before the awkwardness your confession had stirred up. Though against all expectations – unless he had just guessed that she didn't want to insist on the subject – Will picked up another photo.

_Use this so-called vulnerability, come on, you have to win_

Discarding her very own picture, she crawled up to him on his bed and settled in his arms to look at the shot he had chosen. The gesture had seemed fluid enough – almost natural – and he didn't pay attention to it at all; only held her tight against him, his leg brushing hers subconsciously.

"Ice-skating?"

"Ice-skating, ballet classes, painting... I went through every single activity a child can try. My mother assumed that it would make things easier for my siblings and I; that we would forget little by little that we had said goodbye once and for all to our dad. And with the constant traveling – all her stupid plans – it was the best way to make some new friendships even though they wouldn't last."

"That's why you left?"

Brushing the photo with her fingertips, she shook her head – observed the smile of the young teenager she had been once. If Will had kept the glimmering light in his eyes, innocence seemed to have left her own gaze by the time she had turned twelve. She looked tired on this photo, and sad in spite of a wide smile on her lips.

"No, I... Hmm... I ran away from the absence of family I had."

He kissed the top of her head -almost apologetically – and before his unexpected gesture, she leaned up on her elbows to plunge her eyes in his. She could feel his heart beating under the palm of her hand and the warmth of his breath coming close to her lips.

_Don't hesitate to make the first step_

She kissed him, with the same softness he had used the day before but remaining there against his lips for long seconds; too long to be an innocent kiss. Trying to ignore the boiling sensation in her stomach, she broke apart and stared at his lips. Her breath was short – her heart beating fast. Her leg slid between his and she leaned back for another kiss. A deep, sensual one.

This time it had nothing to do with friendship. They were crossing the lines, sweeping away whatever was supposed to define their life. As his hand slid on her waist and he pushed her closer to his body, a shiver ran down her spine. The moment was delicate in spite of the appearances. Because it was Will and she couldn't make the slightest mistake. Because of this challenge she had sealed with Grace.

Her lips left his and she slowly went down his jaw, his neck. A kiss on his chest and she pulled on his shirt – her fingers caressing suggestively his lower stomach to which he responded by a gasp- and she unbuttoned the piece of clothing to reveal his bare chest.

Her mouth went straight to the thin, sensitive skin there at the limits of his belt and little by little a new trail of kisses led her up his chest; her hand following with soft caresses. Every touch seemed to make him arch his back, swallow hard while he had leaned his head back on a pillow, abandoning himself to her lips. As she reached back his lower stomach, her fingers went to work on his belt and soon enough she was unzipping his pants – his arousing clear enough under her touch. Her tongue had made it to the limits of his boxers when the phone suddenly rang in the room, making them both jump of surprise.

For a few seconds she hoped that he wouldn't move, that her kisses and mischievous caresses would get him too much aroused to ever consider to take the call but a bit taken aback, she saw him roll on his side and grabbed his cell phone.

"Oh, hi mum..."

He got up, zipped his pants back and left the room with a timid – embarrassed if not confused – gaze to her. Breathless, Karen remained on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time. It wouldn't be for tonight.

_Rule number five: a bad timing doesn't mean you have to abdicate entirely_


	8. Ephemeral Life

**Chapter seven**

**An Ephemeral Life – June 22nd **

Her eyes closed, she enjoyed the heat of the sun on her face – the breeze caressing her nape – while the leaves of the trees seemed to be singing an old, peaceful lullaby that rocked her to sleep. To the boiling effervescence of the first hour had substituted a moment of calm and they had stopped talking, the radio playing tunes in the background to accompany their daydreams.

She hadn't stayed at Will's the evening before, hadn't shared dinner with him. Instead she had run away in order to avoid the awkwardness that the situation would have stirred up in the few seconds previous to Marilyn's call. She could have won the challenge by now, could have woken up by his side with the comforting pleasure that one more time, a man wouldn't have resisted her. But it hadn't worked out that way and now she had to do it all over again keeping in mind the fact it would be delicate; uncertain.

_Only two days left, don't blow them_

At the end of an alley, the Victorian house appeared – the green grass contrasting sharply with the white walls of its three stories. The place owned a singular elegance that seemed to belong to another century while the park leading to a river below brought up a romantic shade to the countryside landscape. But if quietness embraced them firstly, as they passed the door the effervescence of important events wrapped them up immediately: people were chatting in what looked like a library while phones were ringing in every single corner – children laughing loudly; caterers coming and going from one room to another.

Silence embraced her back as she closed the door of her bedroom a few minutes later. Abandoning her bag on the floor, she rushed to the large window and observed the park below. The view from the third floor was beautiful and for the manor being built on a hill, she could see the steeple of a village further in the valley. It reminded her of a Norman Rockwell's painting- almost too perfect to actually exist.

At the sound of her cell phone, she turned around and went for it – sat on the four-poster bed, took off her high heels. The hardwood floor was soft under her feet, warmed up by the sun piercing through the window. She felt fine, there.

_Do you need some seduction advice? _

_Only two more days to ever have your chance_

_Grace_

She didn't reply, only let a sigh escape from her mouth then went for a shower. She was running out of time. Days were passing by too quickly and even though she was getting closer to Will, having another week to manage to sleep with him would have been comforting.

As the drops of water hit her face, she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on something else than the challenge. But it was hard, looked like nothing but a dead-end path because all her thoughts ended up being about Will; nobody else.

_Go for him – tonight you will get it_

Except things didn't go as planned and Will spent the lunch – the afternoon – talking to his relatives, a few of his parents' friends as well. A bit aside, she looked at him in silence; responded to Jack by some absent-minded smiles. How could she approach him now that he seemed so distant? She knew that he was trying to escape from her and whatever had happened between the two of them the day before. But still, she could not accept the idea that she wouldn't win.

"He is good-looking, isn't he?"

Taken aback by the unexpected question, she turned her head around only to face a man in his twenties. The night had fallen now – lights being turned on all over the park – but the warm temperatures didn't invite people to come back inside and the caterers were now setting the dinner tables outside.

"You have been looking at him for fifteen minutes now so I am going to assume that he is your type."

Holding her dark red shawl tightly around her shoulders, she couldn't help but laugh quietly. She was blushing – the heat rushing up her cheeks uncontrollably.

"Actually he is a friend of mine. Will – it is his name – is a very good friend. There is nothing more..."

"Maybe... But let's face it, life is too short to keep on staring passively. If you don't move, one day you will regret it."

She frowned before his daring remark but didn't say a word. Long seconds seemed to float in the air – above their heads – and the silence only got broken down by the sound of a fork clinking on a glass to require attention from everyone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the dinner is ready to be served. Please check the plan before heading to your respective tables."

Glad enough to put an end to the odd conversation she was having with a complete stranger, she went straight to sit down at her table only to realize that Will would be by her side while Grace and Jack had seats at another table. It must have been a mistake... But before she had time to ask for an explanation, two couples sat by her side, checking their names on the cards.

"Karen, is it? Nice to meet you, I am Paul – one of George's friends. I see that you are accompanying Will... Are you his girlfriend? About time he finally makes it official!"

She opened her mouth to reply some vague – probably inaudible – rectification but Will arrived at this exact moment and a bit uncomfortable, sat down by her side.

If they had been able to keep some distance during the buffet for lunch, the traditional meal of the evening was about to reduce to ashes their vain efforts and soon enough they would have to stop before finally assuming an inevitable face-to-face. Curiously enough, as much as she should have been happy before such coincidence that sounded helpful for the challenge, she actually felt like nothing but dying at the scene.

_Rule number six: when nothing goes as planned, just pretend you are alright_


	9. Whatever Love Is Supposed To Be

**Chapter Eight**

**Whatever Love Is Supposed To Be – June, 22**

They wouldn't talk about what had happened the day before, in Manhattan – how her lips had traced a path of kisses down his chest, how he had shivered under her touch. She knew it. Somehow it brought to her a sentiment of relief because she had never been good at dealing with confrontations. As a matter of fact, she found it embarrassing enough and intimidating. Two conceptions that didn't match with her latent fear of vulnerability. She needed a total control over the slightest thing or as Will was doing now, ignore a few events purposely.

Perhaps they weren't such opposites as people tended to say and actually looked a lot like each other. It didn't take very long to figure out that most of the times – in given circumstances – their reactions were close if not exactly alike. This was where it all came from, this odd attraction that constituted the base of their relation. It was strong, peculiar and rare.

And relaxing before his own behavior, Karen began to enjoy the evening – talking with the other guests at their table, daring honest and frank gazes towards him as if it was forgotten and they were now about to turn the page, offer themselves a new beginning.

"People at our table assumed that you were Will's girlfriend. I thought it was funny until I observed the two of you and realized that it was believable enough..."

Lost in Jack's arms – dancing at a slow pace among several other guests – she tried to restrain a strong reaction but she felt herself get tensed. Blushing, she looked down and swallowed hard. Why did he all of a sudden come up with such comment? Had Grace told him something about their challenge? In all honesty, she seriously doubted so though.

"At the same time if George hadn't hidden his son's sexual preferences, you wouldn't have come to this kind of ridiculous conclusions. And maybe it is time for you tonight to stop alcohol. Obviously it is all going to your head, honey."

As she turned around, her hazel eyes landed on Will. Sat at the table and sipping a glass of wine, he was talking to some woman – laughing at times. He looked fine, a lot less stressed than when they had arrived.

_Don't miss it out, this time_

"I know that you aren't a couple, Karen. But still... When together the match is perfect; no matters any of yours sexual interests."

The music stopped and under the applause, the caterers brought the wedding anniversary cake. Lightly she planted a kiss on Jack's cheek then headed back to her seat. The champagne was cool on her throat, and with glimmering eyes she smiled at Will.

"Excuse me... Everyone... I would like to make a toast to... The woman who has been by my side for so long now."

George's voice interrupted the murmurs of the conversations going around. He looked timid suddenly, there alone before so many people; a glass of champagne in hand. But as he turned around and stared at Marilyn, something happened – something began to shine in his eyes. An ounce of honesty and perhaps the delicate realization of the chance he was holding.

"I just wanted to thank you, Marilyn. I have no idea if I should talk about fate or coincidence and as a matter of fact, I have never minded about this kind of things. I only stick to clear facts – some aspects of my life that are always here even when the rest isn't alright. You gave me a family, my sons... I owe you a lot if not just everything. You are the one who gives sense to me, in spite of the years and a few upside down roads they came up with. I should tell it to you more often because our existence is very fragile. Thank you, for all of this."

A few seconds floated above the last words as if before vanishing away in a whirl of applause, they hit everyone's mind and got engraved there; with melancholy. But the ephemeral shade of reality ended up winning over it and soon enough the guests were back conversing over a strawberry cake.

More dances followed until the first hours of the morning took away the guests little by little. It looked like a wedding, not an anniversary – a certain freshness floating above warmly. Sat a bit further on an old bench, Karen observed the scene with a bitter attention. Five hundred people had attended her own union to Stanley but the ceremony and the party that had followed had remained cold, impersonal and terribly artificial. She envied Marilyn and George all of a sudden, and whatever they had built.

"I am going to bed. Do you go up to your room as well? Grace left an hour ago and Will is nowhere to be seen."

"A last cigarette before, Jack. A very last one and I will call it a night. Have sweet dreams, honey..."

She looked at him take the stairs that led into the manor along with other guests before concentrating back on the improvised dance floor. Marilyn and George were there, twirling around in a waltz; their eyes locked in each other's.

"Who would guess he has been having an affair for so long, right?"

Still contemplating the scene – hands down on the cold, stoned bench – she simply smiled, shrugged at Will's remark. Obviously he had gone for a walk further in the park, maybe close to the river a few feet away. A fresh breeze caressed her nape and sent a shiver down her spine.

"Maybe... But who cares? She is still the one he is in love with."

_Play along with him_

"So this is what love is supposed to be?"

Her eyes landed on her lap. People had stopped passing in front of them for a little while and they were now alone, a bit in the dark.

"Perhaps... Making differences and being conscious of the fragility of life."

She let him do. As she turned her head around and plunged her hazel eyes in his brown ones, she didn't move – just waited for him to make the final step towards the rest of the night. His lips brushed hers in a soft kiss, and she went for his hand; holding it tight. She wouldn't let him go away this time

_Rule number seven: enjoy the night as if it were the last one_


	10. Game Set And Match

**Chapter Nine**

**Game, Set And Match – June, 23rd**

She wished they could have left now instead of waiting for the last hours of the afternoon. Suddenly the place was too peaceful – too small – and it turned oppressing little by little. Manhattan had at least the credits to embrace you in its anonymity as soon as it felt required. Being forgotten, wander through the streets then erase a couple of facts from your mind like a night spent in a friend's arms. Running away in a word, one more time. But no, instead she would have to remain there and face the awkwardness of a well bitter, so-called game.

Ironically enough Grace happened to be the first person she crossed while heading downstairs for some breakfast. She was there – alone by a concert piano in the library that led outside – and seemed to stare blankly at the guests conversing on the grass of the park. The sun was sliding on her hand with an odd transparency and she almost looked like a ghost suddenly, the pale reflection of her soul.

"Congratulations."

Grace's voice was cold, and low. She didn't seem mad but hurt and ashamed perhaps; humiliated by the unexpected turn of the last hours. Clenching her fists, she bit her lower lip and restrained a loud sigh.

"Look, honey... Let's forget about it. Obviously it was a very stupid game and we should have never – at absolutely no moment – gone into something like this. Forget the project I am supposed to work for tomorrow. Forget about Will."

"What? Certainly not! I am the one who initiated this challenge. Damn, I am the one who actually went for the choice of Will. You won, I lost. Here is the deal."

A man in his fifties suddenly crossed the room – politely smiling at them – before making it outside in the sun. They looked at him in silence, perhaps subconsciously hoping that he would stop and start any kind of conversation that would sweep away all the rest. It seemed stupid to hold hopes over such a thing but sometimes distress only brought up crazy fantasies.

"You are angry and I don't want you to be. I should have known better, I mean... What was I thinking? I should have turned down the challenge immediately. It was disrespectful towards your friendship with Will."

"Oh don't be ridiculous!"

But the laughter escaping from Grace's lips resounded too bitter and it came to crash against the walls, slid down along the piano before landing loudly on the hardwood floor.

"How is he?"

The question took Karen aback. Looking for some help, she turned her head around; in vain. Nobody was there to whisper to her the right answer, to blow away the red on her cheeks. She didn't like how it was all turning out – how she seemed so disarmed, severely lacking self-confidence.

"Excuse me?"

"What do his kisses taste of? What does he like in bed? Is he a good lover? How long did it last? Did he stay for the whole night?"

Grace's frankness was tough to deal with. Anger and pain wrapped it up with such abruptness that you were left there completely disarmed before the successive, bare questions.

"Please don't lie, don't try to spare me, Karen. I am just being curious here."

A few seconds passed by though they owned the shapes of eternity and weighed too much upon their shoulders; too much upon their life. Looking down at her feet intently, Karen shrugged and cleared her voice. She wasn't comfortable at all. Since she had awoken alone in bed a couple of hours earlier, it all had gone to her head – crashed down disillusioned ideas – and from then on she hadn't stopped missing New York; her hotel suite.

"It was sweet, not that awkward. Just sweet."

But he hadn't stayed until the morning. She had fallen asleep and missed out what should have been an important conversation – at least a face-to-face. Somehow she should have felt relieved if not thankful but deep inside she couldn't help regretting it. There was nothing worse than waking up alone when the last thought leading to dreaming had been about the heat of his arms around her frame.

"He wasn't drunk, was he? No, of course he wasn't. He doesn't go into this kind of things since the day he got sick in college after a stupid game. I had to stay by his side all night long and together, we sang catchy tunes that a radio was playing. Did you know about that? Did you know all these details about him? You don't but still... He went for you."

"Perhaps he was lonely and was seeking for company. I happened to be there and this is it."

"Don't try to cheer me up or minimize what happened. I am not mad at him – nor at you. After all you haven't slept with him in my back. I knew about it. I even pushed you to do that so if there is someone to blame in this story then it is me. And just me. The truth is... It is terribly humiliating because as gay as he says he is, he still slept with you; and Diane. But not me... No, I am not an eventuality for him."

Jack burst out from nowhere with an enthusiasm that sharply contrasted with the cold, painful tone of the conversation. Implicitly enough, both women turned the page over their face-to-face and headed to the park for breakfast. The sun was high in the blue sky – the temperatures warm enough – but as soon as she saw Will a few feet away, Karen felt cold and she couldn't help shiver.

"You should have taken a jacket with you!"

She responded to Jack's remark by an absent-minded smile before following him to the buffet, trying to ignore the fact that as soon as Will had noticed her presence outside, he had turned his back at her then begun to talk with someone.


	11. Holding the Key

**Chapter Ten**

**Holding the Key – June, 28th**

Five days. It had taken him five days to request a face-to-face in the complete anonymity of some hotel lounge lost in The Lower East Side. Until then he had simply pretended that nothing had happened yet being careful enough to not find himself alone with her in a room. He was scared; she felt embarrassed. And as the days were passing by, the consequences of the challenge were weighing more and more on their minds.

Grace had turned quiet – blank – and probably carried on by pain, she wandered through the hours like a ghost in search of a conclusion that would make sense; in vain. Her husband's unexpected return the day before had nonetheless slowed down her despair, if only for a while. But still, before such situation Karen felt bad.

As she stepped into the lobby of The Bowery Hotel, the crackling of logs under some flames caught her attention and she forgot immediately about the rain pour – her soaked wet coat. Some people were sat by the fireplace, in full whispered conversation; settled down on old leather armchairs. The place was cozy and reminded her of Scotland, way back then when she used to visit relatives with her sister in the summer. One day they had stopped going there, for a reason she still ignored.

Will had chosen a table hidden in a corner – on the opposite end of the windows as if he didn't want to be seen, didn't want people to notice his presence there that could at any moment damage his reputation if he ever had any to defend.

_There we are..._

She had hoped that he would remain silent over the night they had spent together; that he would prefer to turn the page because there was nothing else to say. Her hopes had crashed – her heart beating fast – when she had seen his name appear in bold letters in her email box. From then she had succumbed to a strong anxiety and had done nothing but look for an excuse, some prepared sentences that she would give him to ease his burning questions; his embarrassing allusions.

"I will have a Whiskey, on the rock."

Accompanying her order with a nod to the waiter, she finally sat down on an armchair and crossed her legs with a barely controlled nonchalance. She was mortified – for what she had done to him, to Grace and on some level to Jack – and quietly enough, she impatiently waited for her drink to arrive.

"Here are some papers Stan faxed me and that I need you to sign."

Her smile froze as Will took some contracts from his briefcase and made them slide on the coffee table along with a fountain pen. Papers, administrative decisions. It hadn't crossed her mind that perhaps he didn't have any other purpose in head and as usual, he had asked her to meet up at some quiet place of Manhattan. She had focused on their night all along, putting aside the fact that he was beforehand her attorney and that sometimes, they couldn't help this kind of tasks.

She didn't leave time for the waiter to put the glass down on the table. With a furtive – determined and vaguely distressed – gesture, she grabbed her drink and took a long sip. It burnt on her throat, brought tears to her eyes and all of a sudden, she felt alive. Alcohol had this odd power to remind her that pain was synonymous with feeling, being there not completely dead yet.

"And... I would like you to take this as well."

Blankly enough she stared at the key for long seconds – a thousand questions rushing to her mind and yet lacking sense. One more time, nothing was going as planned or at least as she had imagined that it would. She took another sip of her Whiskey and regretted the absence of ice in it. It would have woken her up enough so that she would have been able to articulate something. Instead she remained there, disarmed and confused.

"I have booked a room – for an unlimited period. This is the key to access it. It is on the sixth floor and has a terrace."

"What... What do you want?"

"You."

His self-confidence was scaring, the way he looked into her eyes without the slightest embarrassment; as if he had made his choice a long time ago and was fully determined. As her lips made contact with the last drops of Whiskey, she frowned and shook her head. From all the scenarios she had imagined, it had never crossed her mind that he would ask for something more. On the contrary, it seemed clear that all he wanted was a vague apology and her agreement to turn the page over a mistake that couldn't get repeated.

"You are single, just as I am. There is no cheating, nothing like that... Actually we are completely free so why not? For an unlimited time. I know that you enjoyed it. I did too, even if I can't really explain it. Why should we stop, then? It doesn't make sense. I understand that I might be taking you aback right now and I apologize for it. I am going to go upstairs – to the room – and wait there. If you want to join me, just hold the key..."

She didn't look at him go away. Instead she remained still, clutched to the armchair facing nothing but a life that didn't make sense. She couldn't do that. It wasn't part of the challenge. Besides, the game was over now. She had won and hurt Grace enough to stop the disaster before it going into more damages.

Will had no conscious to actually offer her such a thing?

Angry enough, she stood up – left a bill on the table – and headed to the reception to give them back the key. Outside the rain was still pouring, sweeping away a thousand invisible things; tiny details...

"May I help you?"

A man appeared at the reception desk and smiled brightly at her obvious confusion. She began to tend her hand to him but stopped halfway before looking down at her feet. She shook her head.

"No, thank you."

With unsteady steps, she walked to the elevator and waited for the doors to open. She stepped in, full of regrets. Abdicating.


	12. Silent Facts

**Chapter Eleven**

**Silent Facts – July, 4th**

It would be a summer fling, something that would barely last two months and would be swept away by the gray clouds of September before they even had time to realize it. Then, little by little, they would go back to an old routine as if nothing had happened, as if it had just been a parenthesis in whatever their life could bring.

None of them had said this out loud but the idea had been twirling around in their head as soon as she had passed the door of the hotel room on the sixth floor of The Bowery and accepted his deal a week or so earlier. From then on they had met several times there, made love with a sentiment of anonymity she didn't know how to face.

The impersonal side of a bed that wasn't hers – sheets she hadn't bought and didn't own – and the smell that didn't remind her of home tended to bring along a sensation she had never experienced before, that left her a bit disarmed at the end. All of a sudden, Will had turned out to be her only reference and if at forty-three years old she had imagined that her life had been settled down once and for all, the situation was proving her the exact opposite with what looked like a disturbing easiness. She hated it - especially the sentiment that she had absolutely no control over anything – but whenever she convinced herself to cancel an encounter, she still happened to go there before ending up undressed, kissed by him.

One day she had crossed Stanley on Madison Avenue. Briefcase in hand, he was walking up to some of his favorite private clubs where women weren't allowed in. He hadn't noticed her presence, there only a few feet away from him on an empty sidewalk. Something had hurt in her heart – her self-esteem being reduced to ashes – and ashamed enough, she had looked down at her feet then run away by an adjacent street. He had forgotten to her existence. They had been married for almost a whole decade and within a few months, she had stopped being part of his world; this little sphere he was evolving in. She hadn't cried by then, but simply drowned her pain into endless glasses of vodka.

Perhaps it had pushed her towards Will as well if she had had to be completely honest.

"_Are you sure that you don't want to come with us? It might not be your country club but still..."_

"_No, I will do just fine here – with Jack and Will."_

With a shy smile playing on her lips, she had winced at Grace – assuring her in silence that she would do just fine – then looked at her friend leave Manhattan for the weekend. Grace knew that she had tied the knot with Stanley on July, 4th and so that for the first time in a long while there wouldn't be any kind of celebration; even less an anniversary. She had nonetheless turned down her friend's offer to forget about it far from the city and reluctantly enough accepted another type of celebration with Will.

"_What about Jack?"_

"_He got a last-minute invitation. A sailor, I guess..."_

For a few seconds, she had wondered if Will had been telling her the truth – if he hadn't simply asked Jack to not come over for the evening – but before the perspective to spend some time with Will out of The Bowery Hotel, she had nodded and implicitly accepted his invitation to a picnic by the Hudson.

"_This is where Macy's shoots its fireworks. If the weather is fine enough, we could settle there to have dinner."_

A few people had already taken possession of the pier and grass as they made it to The Hudson River a basket of food and a blanket in hand. For the first time she wouldn't observe the multicolored fireworks from a table at The Rainbow Room, a piano accompanying quietly enough the peculiar evening. It was odd to suddenly face so many changes; odd but sweet.

As Will spread the blanket on a small grass surface, she took her shoes off and plunged her feet in the green ground. The touch was fresh, and soft. With the years passing by and her introduction to the New York socialite sphere, she had grown apart from all these things she used to love once; tiny details that made life singular like walking barefoot at the end of a summer day in the grass.

She welcomed the glass of red wine Will tended her with a bright smile, took a sip and stared in silence at the other side of the bank. People had probably sat down by the water as well there, enjoying some food before the fireworks got shot. The temperatures had been warm enough and the sky was adopting pale shades with subtlety as the sun began to vanish.

"I am glad that you accepted to accompany me here tonight. I am glad that you... I am glad, that is it."

She let him press her hand tightly – his words floating above their head with a delicate whisper – as she smiled back, blushed a little. She had lost the habit of receiving compliments from a man, lost the habit to flirt around with a lightness that seemed to carry her far away from her existence. In a word, she had lost the habit to live and feel alive, for too many years now.

Slowly enough, she bent over – caressed his chin – and captured his lips with hers. A kiss in public, the very first one; by The Hudson River. As she broke apart and looked into his eyes, Karen knew that this moment would remain engraved forever in her heart. No mattered it was just a summer fling, because she couldn't afford more than that.


	13. The Weight of Secrets

**Chapter Twelve**

**The Weight of Secrets – July, 16th**

"Trust – a word too often ignored, even among friends. For hours we praise its strength and importance but as soon as an external event troubles the quietness of our life, there is nobody anymore and we all dig into silence and lies."

From the other side of the table, she observed Grace take a mouthful of rice – and swallowed hard. The attempt to a conversation didn't come from nowhere. On the contrary, it owned the characteristics of a very well studied and detailed strategy.

"What do you think?"

Grace looked too relaxed in her question to sound honesty and detached.

"Apart from the fact that you might have abused wine tonight, honey?"

The days – weeks – were passing by and Grace seemed to plunge more and more into a deep and cold anger; one of those that left you exhausted, completely disarmed before the rest of the world. Nobody understood your frustration and you remained there, lonely.

There wasn't a day at the office she didn't talk about it. A mere allusion or a whole development, Grace always ended up mentioning how Will had stopped trusting her. He had slept with a woman but hadn't told her and instead had chosen to remain quiet, pretending that nothing had happened. Before it Karen preferred not to say a thing – eventually nod by politeness – but the truth was that she had ceased to let the words invade her head, pushing her to feel guilty.

_Because it is just a fling anyway_

After all, it was Grace who had pushed her towards Will in the first place. Perhaps she should have put an end to everything after the challenge – made it clear that all she had been looking for had just been a one-night stand – but she was an adult and owned some rights over her life. Dating Will for a while was one of them; no mattered it wasn't right.

"For my part, I trust everyone at this table and will always do."

The moment Will said so, Karen knew that he would regret the self-confidence he had used in this bold comment because it was exactly what Grace had been expecting in order to start fighting. Choosing to remain aside, Karen stared down at her plate of pasta in silence. She wasn't hungry anymore and a dish that had seemed delicious a few seconds earlier now simply looked too heavy; greasy. She nonetheless let her fork wander through it, forced herself to eat.

"Oh really? Then you can affirm right now that you are not hiding to us the slightest thing?"

"This is not trust you are talking about then but something more like... Having a secret garden. After all there are some things that perhaps, aren't made to be revealed to everyone even to our closest friends. It doesn't mean we don't trust them, just that a few details of our life belong to nobody but ourselves."

His reply was smart, constructive enough even though the conversation was completely improvised for him. She should have known better about him, after all he was an attorney and knew how to turn words into his favor. He made money on this. Taking a sip of her wine, Karen slid a brief smile at him before focusing back on her plate immediately. If for Grace she had been once Will's lover, it was supposed to be over and she wanted to keep things that way before her friends. The Bowery Hotel was part of their secret garden – just like their walks by The Hudson, the movies they watched together by night – and if they didn't want to share it with anyone then it was their right; for as long as the summer would last.

"Here we are, then. You don't tell me everything."

"Nor does Jack... Nor does Karen... Nor does Leo... But these things are only mere details and perhaps they don't deserve such importance at the end."

"What if they did?"

Leo arrived. His shift at the hospital had lasted longer than planned but his sudden presence at the table seemed to ease down the tension that Grace's allusions had built. The rest of the dinner went by rather smoothly and it is only when Jack disappeared in the streets of The East Village – Leo and Grace taking a cab back to Brooklyn – that Karen relaxed, held Will's hand tight.

The night had fallen over Manhattan but the hot temperatures of the day sliding into bearable ones once the moon had started shining high had pushed people to invade the streets for a late-night walk – the steps leading to brownstones suddenly turning into improvised benches.

"I love New York in the summer. I know that most of people don't, because of the heat and the smells but by night something singular happens here. The city is breathing again, with a lightness the rest of the year doesn't bring along."

She looked at him while saying so – as they were slowly heading back midtown – but accepted the shy smile he gave her back in exchange. It might have sounded mushy but the truth was that since they had started seeing each other – at the hotel and outside in the real world – she had had the feeling to get to know him better and this was a completely different Will she was facing now, enjoying to be with.

"Do you think that Grace is right? That maybe our so-called secret garden is pure hypocrisy and looks too close to lies..."

She wished he hadn't made any allusion to it, wished he had simply taken advantage of the clear night to share a nice moment with her. Perhaps they would have gone to her hotel suite and she would have let him step in for a while. She didn't necessarily feel loved – since sentimental feelings had nothing to do in a summer fling – but at least respected for who she was. And she liked this.

"The things you don't reveal to me – to anyone... Do you think they are insignificant details or maybe pure, damaging lies?"

This time Karen stopped walking to look into his eyes. The innocence and honesty of his question were harsh and hurt for reminding her of the challenge she had established with Grace in the first place. She let a few seconds pass by before shrugging, not so convincingly perhaps.

"Details... They are only details that don't deserve to be said out loud."

_Pure lie_


	14. Summer Nights

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Summer Nights – July, 27th**

_Will is dating someone!_

_Oh honey, I don't care about Will's boring, so-called sexual life..._

It had seemed to be the most appropriate comment to make, by then. Jack had taken her aback as she had passed the door of the apartment on a Monday night. For a tiny second she had wanted to look at him – standing in the kitchen with Grace – but instead she had assumed that pretending not to care was wise enough and she had simply sat down on the couch, looking for something in her bag.

Nobody had made the slightest allusion to it during the rest of the evening and she had forgotten about it. Until now.

The waters brushed her toes and sent a shiver down her spine. The ocean was cold, oddly enough for a summer perhaps but the last days of rain seemed to have brought along a cool breeze; and swept away the typical heat that used to invade the city.

_Apparently nothing is usual, this year..._

Instinctively she made a step backwards – in order to escape from the next wave – and felt how all of a sudden his hands grabbed her waist, pulled her up in the air. She stifled a scream of surprise and looked at him straight in the eyes as he settled her in his arms. Hands around his neck, she was holding him as tightly as she could, wishing nothing but time to stop. If only for a few minutes, a couple of hours; one year.

_My whole life_

But her daydreams faded away as she realized that Will was carrying her to the ocean. The waves were crashing loudly in her back, reduced to silence the sound of the city a few feet away.

"Don't even think about it..."

She was fully clothed. As they had reached the beach, she had simply taken her stilettos off and pulled up her pants to walk by the water but the temperatures were too low to even think about wearing some lighter piece of clothing; even less a bikini of some sort. Anyway, she would have never undressed on a public beach among strangers.

Barely restraining a laugh, Will kept on walking through the waters until they reached his knees. As he began to tend his arms – making her balance above the ocean – she couldn't help but gasp, shook her head vehemently. She didn't want to end up in the waters with her clothes on, soaked wet until late in the night when they came back to Manhattan. Besides he wouldn't dare. She knew it, hoped so.

"No, put me back on the ground immediately!"

To his laughter responded hers and very soon she forgot about the waters, the possibilities to end up in the middle of Brooklyn with wet clothes on. The situation was ridiculous for people of their age who were supposed to behave wisely enough but she didn't mind about it. They were not teenagers anymore and so what? For once she felt light, and happy enough.

"Are you hungry?"

The sand was cold under her feet as she found back the firmness of the ground. He hadn't really let go of her completely, his hands still clutched to her waist. The breeze seemed to melt into what looked like a strong wind now and as she pushed a strand of hair away from her face, she came closer to him. Her foot caressed his playfully. She shook her head.

"Not yet..."

They nonetheless left the beach and crossed the wooden pier to make it to the fair. She had always had a thing for Coney Island; the metallic sound of the merry-go-round, the smells of the restaurants and a sort of innocence that took people away as soon as they made it there. And then there was the ocean a few feet away. The days in Manhattan made you forget about it and the coastal character of New York. It was good at times to go back to the exact essence of the city; boats in the distance, iodine going to people's head bewitchingly.

She had taken him there. Quietly enough – holding secretly the idea through a smile – she had grabbed his hand and together they had reached the subway that would lead them there. If she preferred to use the services of a private car most of the times, Coney Island required a train ride; perhaps because it was how she did with her dad so many years ago.

They would go back to The Bowery Hotel later – eventually spend the night together – but meanwhile all she wanted to do was share a few hours with him there; at the end of Brooklyn to let the magic of the place wrap them up mysteriously. And it was working, for her highest pleasure.

"The beach is usually crowded at this time of the year... It is strange to see it so empty."

Sat next to him in one of the baskets of the Ferris wheel, Karen observed the beach vanishing little by little under her sight as they were going higher, towards the clouds. If she didn't like riding a merry-go-round, this one was the only acceptable for some reason. She had learned to love it through the years, the old design bringing up something more to the place. They reached the top; the wheel stopped.

It was so quiet, suddenly; too much somehow.

"I have to leave the city for a couple of weeks."

"I know..."

Grace had told her about it, how some last-minute business trip had been scheduled before Will found himself on vacations until September. It hadn't hurt but all of a sudden, Karen had had the feeling that one of her references had been missing.

_Don't get attached to a summer fling_

She swept it away with a gesture of the hand then leaned over to plant a kiss on his lips with delicacy. They would have plenty of time when he came back, many other summer nights to spend together and maybe – if they felt the urge to – they would take the train back to Coney Island, sit down in the Ferris wheel then contemplate the end of the day vanishing in the ocean. Just like now.


	15. You I Him

**Chapter Fourteen**

**You, I, Him – August, 2nd**

"I think we made a mistake with this challenge. It should have never happened because it is not a mere game. It goes beyond that and now I have nothing left but regrets."

She had dreaded this for such a long time that as Grace let the words come out, they almost sounded alright; as if the situation weren't so bad, in the end. With quietness she let them invade her mind and settle there then tried to scan the emotion that they would stir up. In vain, she remained bare – not even guilty as she had felt in the past – and so she allowed herself to get a sip from her glass of wine.

"He doesn't talk to me, doesn't confide in me. I thought that all these secrets – these lies – were over for a very long time... Obviously he can't help it as if deep inside himself something prevented him from trusting me entirely."

Grace had mistaken her silence and decided to keep on talking instead. Perhaps because once it was all making it to the light, she couldn't stop anymore and had to let it go. Perhaps because she couldn't stand the lack of sound that seemed to echo on her confessions with sharpness. Whatever the reason was, it didn't change anything to Karen who began to look around – a bit panicked – for help. But they were alone that evening, at Will's place. He had left a few days before on a business trip and a thing leading to another both women had ended up having dinner there together. A good excuse for a well deserved face-to-face, maybe.

"Have you tried to talk to him? And yet... Just because he doesn't want to tell you about the challenge doesn't necessarily mean that he doesn't trust you. Perhaps he is simply afraid that he might hurt you if he happened to confess what happened. After all, you aren't supposed to know any of this so he might assume that you would take it as bad as when it was Diane."

"Why of course I would be mad at him if he told me about it. I am... Already mad at him, or at myself I am not sure. But still, he pretends he is my friend – if not my soul mate – and yet keeps for himself this all thing when it is supposed to be big, to be... I don't know. I don't know anything anymore."

She didn't want to talk about it, to allude to Will and spend the rest of the evening flirting with what-ifs that wouldn't make any change at the end. He had left a few days before and she didn't miss him. This should have reassured her – comforted her in the idea that what they were living was a mere summer fling – but for some reason, she hated it; hated this absence of pain in her heart, the sentiment of being empty and disarmed. Instead she felt okay, atrociously random about the situation and let the days go by with some sort of innocence she hadn't experienced in a long while.

"Don't you understand that maybe it didn't mean anything to him? Or even worse, that it turned out to be something he wished had never happened? And so he didn't tell you about it, didn't tell anyone in the hope that at some point he would manage to erase it from his mind."

"Why, it was that bad?"

The question made her laugh, as much as it showed up in the middle of a bitter conversation. Blushing, Karen shook her head then took another sip of wine. Embarrassment always made her thirsty, and a bit confused before the behavior she was supposed to adopt. Most of the times, she used vulgarity which only had as consequence to offend people even more but with Grace it was different, especially at this exact moment.

"No... But, face the facts. He didn't stay, didn't choose to spend the whole night with me and preferred to go away like that, without telling me. And... I don't know, I guess he just did it because it was all he had at this exact moment. He came to me because he didn't want to be alone for a few hours."

"You kept on flirting with him or so all week long. Of course he went to you! If he needed to speak or even just spend some time with someone then this person should have been me though. Because I am Grace, his goddamn Grace."

"When I am just Karen, a mere and pointless one-night stand."

She had said that subconsciously enough but it took her aback as much as it did on Grace and for a few seconds they both remained still, silent; staring into each other's eyes intently. The remark had sounded true, atrociously bitter and uncomfortable. The thing was that it hadn't crossed her mind until now that Will might have considered her as such a possibility – a mere series of one-night stands that would get him busy for a few nights a week – but an odd feeling was boiling in her lower stomach as if she had actually always known about it.

_And this is why I don't miss him..._

It closed the conversation rather abruptly but at least the rest of the evening turned out to be lighter and bearable enough compared to the way they had started it. But if until then she wouldn't have minded to stay and spend the night in Will's bedroom, as Grace decided it was time to go to bed she preferred to go back to her hotel suite.

Midtown was deprived of memories, of scents and broken fantasies. There – on the top floor of the big, impersonal palace – she would be safe even though the nights always turned out to be blank when alone in bed.


	16. A Matter of Synchronization

**Chapter Fifteen**

**A Matter of Synchronization – August, 12th**

She only realized that she had missed him once he passed the doors of the airport a leather travel bag in hand among the crowd of passengers. It had taken her this long to apprehend what suddenly turned into an odd, disturbing evidence and before it she remained quiet – looking from a reasonable distance how he had gone straight to Grace to hug her tight. It wasn't jealousy but a latent pain was nonetheless there, somewhere close to her heart as the seconds were passing by and she was dying for his arms. The idea of Coney Island turned out to be his.

"_I want to see the ocean and walk by the beach."_

"_But you have just spent two weeks in San Diego..."_

"_And it is not The Atlantic."_

Grace didn't insist. It might have sounded odd to strangers – even perhaps unhealthy – but when one of the four was missing, the balance of their group was broken and it wasn't the same anymore. It did not work out and soon enough the lack of dynamic began to weigh on their shoulders. That was why they always celebrated the return of the one who had had to leave at some point – because it brought along this vital relief that seemed to calm down their breath. Eager to not ruin this special day, Grace nodded and spent the rest of the ride catching up on gossip with Will.

If he had remained rather distant with her since his arrival, the allusion to Coney Island had just settled down a whole different scheme and blushing, she had looked up at him from the backseat of the car. It was their place, the last one they had gone to and kissed in public because it was safe and nobody knew them there. Yet she hardly believed in coincidences and Will's message was clear – implicit enough. He had missed her too.

It didn't reassure her, on the contrary. From the moment they stepped out of the car and headed slowly to the wooden pier, Karen's heart began to beat faster. Clutched to her bag in order to hide her shaking hands, she was lost in wonders. What was it that every time she should have been happy her heart went for the exact opposite? Then the usual downfall occurred and she was left there disarmed, looking for a way to escape from whatever life was trying to push towards her. If she hadn't cared about missing out opportunities like that in the past, things were different now and she couldn't afford it anymore.

_Assume whatever it is, dammit._

They settled at the terrace of an Italian restaurant that overlooked the beach. The place was crowded – tourists and families enjoying a day far from the suffocating temperatures of Manhattan – but for once she was glad of the cacophony around. They were deprived of any kind of romantic intimacy and deep inside she knew that it was better like that. It would always be, as a matter of fact.

She was about to take a sip of her coffee when something hit her ankle and stopped at her feet. Looking down, Karen picked up a pacifier and felt a wave of ridiculous embarrassment spread on her mind. She had always had difficulties to deal with what most of people considered as random situations especially when it had to do with maternity. She felt in the way by then, too different.

"Oh, I am really sorry. She just let go of it... You know how they are at this age, finding an incongruous pleasure in throwing things to the ground for absolutely no reason."

A woman holding a baby in her arms was now standing by their table, an apologetic smile on her lips – sunglasses on top of her head. Karen blushed under the weight of her friends' gaze on her and the odd sensation that a face-to-face with a mother still seemed to stir up even after all these years.

"It is okay... No big deal."

With awkwardness she gave back the pacifier to the woman and was about to disappear behind her mug of coffee when a last comment made her freeze.

"I am sure that you and your husband know what I am talking about. Anyway, have a nice day..."

The woman had motioned at Will on the other side of the table. No mattered he had sat down in front of Grace and next to Jack, a stranger had still assumed that they were together. Nobody seemed to care but herself and if she would have been alone, Karen wouldn't have swallowed back her sudden sadness.

A few minutes later they were strolling down the beach – getting closer to the water. Trying to keep her distance with Will who had headed faster to the wet sand, she nonetheless and reluctantly ended up by his side only to realize that Grace had stopped a few feet away, on the phone probably with Leo while Jack had gone to a little dog to pat him on the back.

Synchronization – as much as it could be assimilated to a complete control over a given situation, she couldn't stand the word for reminding her of life unexpected turns.

"What are you doing?"

She had tried to sound casual but as Will stood up, she lost any kind of confidence. There in the sand, where he had just knelt down, had been engraved a sentence she hadn't heard a lot of times; hadn't got a lot through her life.

_I love you_

"What kind of conspiracy are the two of you trying to settle down?"

It took her one second to reduce to nothing the courage he had probably needed to go ahead, assume his feelings. To be more precise, she walked over it and as if nothing was happening turned around to face Grace while she was deliberately erasing the words. It burnt under her feet, dug a hole in her heart and her arms crossed on her chest, she looked at Will blankly – let a few seconds pass by – before giving up with cowardice.

She had ruined it all, let escape an opportunity – one more time. Defeated and helpless, she found back her hotel suite at the end of the afternoon with a dark relief; didn't try to call him as she had previously planned. Obviously he would hate her now for not having assumed anything, for having let him down even though she might have wanted nothing but what he had dared to write down in the sand.

Far from imagining that at this exact moment Will - carried on by the strength his declaration on Coney Island had set off - was suddenly confessing everything to Grace who, stunned, listened how her anger was boiling in her veins, Karen went for a bubble bath before losing herself in the vapors of a bottle of wine. And as a few hours later she was finally turning off the lights, on The Upper West Side Will's cell phone vibrated on his nightstand, a photo of him asleep in Karen's bed at his parents' anniversary arrived; sent back Grace.

Synchronization – she had always hated this notion.


	17. Disilusionned Statements

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Disillusioned Statements – August, 13th**

Sat on the edge of the bed – palm of her hands resting on the mattress – she closed her eyes and took a deep breath only to realize how her heart was beating fast. Self-confidence had abandoned her earlier in the morning unless it had gone away during her agitated sleep, she couldn't tell. But there she was after many hours of doubts, about to embrace a completely unexpected part of her life.

_For the best?_

Trying to push aside the question that seemed to be burning her mind, she looked around at the Bowery Hotel room. It wasn't impersonal anymore. Through the weeks she had learned to build references there of an invisible existence she was now ready to put under the light, and give it a chance because this was all she owned in the end. She couldn't miss it out, not again.

After having received the confirmation that he would come over in the afternoon, she had spent all her time elaborating a thousand scenarios in her head; looking for the best way – their very own one – that would engrave this moment in their memory forever because it was too important to be disregarded or forgotten. She had failed too many times at such an attempt in the past then lived with ruined relations that had dragged her down to the spiral of disillusioned hopes. She couldn't afford it anymore, for being tired; old. Ideas didn't settle in her head and instead, she decided to be honest; true at heart even though it would mean that she would appear completely disarmed.

Will passed the door at three. He was always on time as if too afraid that the rest would slip through his fingers if he let a few minutes escape, tiny seconds of his life. She understood this obsession of control too well to ever make a remark. Probably too focused on the words she had to say, she didn't notice the slightest thing – missed out the dark shade of his brown eyes – and slowly walked to him.

_Why does it have to be so hard?_

Staring intently at her hands, Karen frowned – swallowed hard. It was too quiet all of a sudden, the lack of noise weighing on her with an implacable strength. She felt stupid standing there, uncomfortable but for the first time in a very long while hopes were warming up her heart.

"I wish we could go back to yesterday, to Coney Island on the beach. Then as you would stand up next to me and I would stare at the words engraved in the sand I wouldn't try to hide them. Instead I would find the courage to face their meaning and defiantly enough I would hold your hand... Perhaps it would seem crazy – incomprehensible – to some people but I don't mind about that. All I want is to spend a lot more evenings in your arms, wake up next to you and make a thousand plans. With you. For as long as life would allow me to. And that... And that because I love you."

A shy smile had accompanied her last words as she had looked up straight in his eyes. Silently enough, she was pleading him as if her very own breathing depended on it. She had never found herself in this role. Until then, men had constantly gone to her and made this required step but all of a sudden – while standing there – she realized how bare, vulnerable she felt; at the mercy of the words he had written in the sand.

"You are a fucking bitch, Karen."

She didn't even have time to analyze the way her heart broke down into a million pieces and a pain hit its ruins vehemently. Completely taken aback, she shook her head at him; waited for an explanation to his unexpected, cold comment. Confused, she stared how he grabbed his cell phone out of the pocket of his jacket and tended it to her – the photo she had taken of him to win the challenge appearing there on the screen.

"I got it from Grace after I told her about you and me, how I was tired of hiding; how we were wasting time... For how long did you use me?"

"Never, if you want me to actually be sincere..."

Perhaps she took him aback for a few seconds because something seemed to shine in his eyes – a flame of hopes – but it didn't last long enough and as he burst out laughing, she knew it was over; she had lost him, missed out her chance one more time.

"I am not sure that using the excuse of sincerity now is the best thing to do. For a fucking client... A fucking project you would be in charge of – a two-week job. You got me for such a tiny lapse of time in your damn life. And then what? Did I turn out to be an interesting hobby that you decided to stay with me? Unless this is part of something else you haven't told anyone about yet... Like a child? Did you use me for that too?"

"No..."

Her voice was fragile, almost inaudible as she felt a torrent of tears trying desperately to make it to her eyes but she didn't cry in public; never showed such a thing to anyone. It wasn't appropriate, not really bearable for her either if she had had to be honest.

"Pretty hard to believe you now. And why would you not try to, after all? I saw you yesterday with the baby at the restaurant. You are dying for maternity, it is obvious. Why would I believe you when you tell me that you don't try to get pregnant from me? Considering all you already did..."

It was boiling there, in her lower stomach - a mix of anger and pain she had swallowed back for too long. Then without any warning, it finally came out. Loudly. Painfully.

"Because I can't have children! I can't... Are you satisfied, now? I ran a few exams some years ago after a false alert and... And the only thing that showed up was that. It would never happen, there wouldn't be any child. Never."

Not even Stanley had known about it. Too ashamed – desperately confused – she had kept it for herself and tried to forget the nursery room she had got done at the manse, carried on by the excitement of the perspective to finally give sense to her life through maternity. It had weighed for interminable months on her heart until the day the pain had got stifled under a thousand lies and little by little, she had let go of it thinking that she was done, had turned the page over it.

Feeling the tears that years of loneliness had accumulated running down, she realized that she hadn't at all and it still hurt violently.

"Well, then maybe nature finally proves that there is a justice in everything."

The lightness of his voice on this last statement floated for a long time in the hotel room after he left, stabbing her deeper and deeper until she crashed down to the carpeted floor in a foetal position; carried away by her sobs.


	18. All Over Again

**Chapter Seventeen**

**All Over Again – September, 6th**

The sky was blue outside, cloudless. People were probably heading to the park in order to enjoy the last days of a warm sun before the fall swept it away through a whirl of rain, an icy wind. Soon enough, the leaves would begin to fall down – recovering the asphalt of a brown ribbon – and only memories of an old summer would be left before the melancholy of some sort of dying world.

Huddled on an armchair, she approached her hand from the window as if to caress the shapes of some trees out there but the contact resulted cold – sending a shiver down her spine – and she preferred to go back to her novel instead. She had spent the last three weeks reading in her hotel suite, leaving her bed only to sit down by the large windows on the old armchair – a shawl on her shoulders. She hadn't seen anyone but Rosario, hadn't made any phone call while her own cell had remained silent as well. Maybe it wasn't so hard to get forgotten at the end and you stopped returning invitations – stopped making the first step towards other people – then they turned the page over you with a disconcerting, cruel easiness that left you disarmed; ironically enough.

Jack kept on sending her emails but she didn't open any of them. She needed time – courage – to ever manage to assume whatever he wrote down in his messages and for the moment she felt too weak if not just desperate about a thousand things. She might have been ashamed of having hidden the challenge to Will but deep inside her anger had been substituted by pain. Because of the words he had used, because of the way he had dealt with her most personal confession. It had hurt, and still did.

For a few hours – after she had come back to her hotel suite in the darkness and anonymity of the night when nobody would notice her puffy, red eyes – she had thought about leaving New York once and for all. She hadn't found the strength to pack and even less a destination that would make sense though. So she had stayed there, recluse on the top floor of The Palace Hotel.

"_So this is how you are going to spend the rest of your life? What a waste!"_

"_Contrary to men, books can be relied on and this is all I ask for at the end – that and peace."_

Rosario had stopped asking questions from then on and the hotel suite had suddenly plunged in an odd, peaceful silence. Literature – as if fiction would take her away from a reality she could hardly face, she had succumbed to novels with intensity, some sort of invisible distress. Besides, it kept her mind busy – which was good when the vapors of alcohol didn't result enough to make it all blurry.

The knock on the door made her jump and for a few seconds, she stared at it with absent-minded eyes – almost wondering how it could still happen after such a long time. She had been interrupted somehow through the wanders of a recluse time and she didn't know how to react. Rosario had left an hour earlier to run some errands and since she had the key, it couldn't be the Salvadorian maid.

_Will...? Don't be stupid._

She could have let go of it and pretended not to be home, plunged back into the novel she was reading but for some reason she decided to stand up instead – open the door. Surprised, she lost her balance for a few seconds before shaking her head in disbelief then cleared her throat.

"Stanley? What are you doing here?"

He had lost weight, almost looked fragile with nothing but a bouquet of red roses in hand. She let him enter the suite and settle on the sofa while she went for some coffee that had been previously prepared.

"Is everything alright?"

As she tended him a mug, she couldn't help noticing what looked like a deep discomfort in his eyes and she began to panic – his silence to her questions not helping that much to reassure her.

"These are for you..."

She accepted the flowers with a shy smile and put them down on her lap – too eager to know the reason of his unexpected visit after so many months of silence and invisibility. The last time she had seen him, she had passed unnoticed to his eyes on the street a few blocks away from there. It had hurt by then but now she seemed to have finally turned the page.

"What were you doing? Am I interrupting you or something?"

"I was reading... Reading a novel."

"What kind of novel?"

"Edith Wharton, _The House of Mirth_..."

"You have always had a thing for literature... What is it about?"

"How New York socialites turn their back at a woman they had supposedly considered as one of them in the past."

It couldn't have been more ironic now that she thought about it and all of a sudden it left some sort of a bitter taste on her heart. She cast a furtive glance at the book abandoned on the armchair then focused back on Stanley who still hadn't told her about the reason of his presence by her side.

She took a sip of her coffee – regretting to not have added sugar to it – but in the hope to save up time she preferred to remain sat on the couch, staring straight into Stanley's eyes. Her gesture turned out to be clear enough for him and as he put down his mug on the coffee table, he sighed loudly.

"I have been thinking about it for a while, Karen, and... I can't go on like that any longer... I made a mistake and I miss you. I miss you a lot. I want you back."


	19. This Is a New Beginning

**Chapter Eighteen**

**This Is a New Beginning – September, 15th**

The first thing Karen did while moving back to the Upper East Side mansion with Stanley turned out to get rid of the nursery room, at the end of the corridor – opposite a small study. She barely took her time to unpack her suitcases and hurried down to this place that nobody knew about.

There – with a barely contained rage – she torn down the wallpaper, dismantled the furniture and only allowed herself to have a look at it once the last cardboard box disappeared from her sight, taken away to the basement. Within an hour, it was just as if nothing had ever happened – as if not a single dream had crashed at some point. The room looked bare, cold and pointless enough.

_Everything is ephemeral in the end..._

She didn't need to close the door – meticulously lock the room as she had done a lot of times in the past – and with a hesitating hand, she left it open ajar before turning her back at it definitely.

It was better like that. As a matter of fact, this sentence made sense for a thousand different things to be more precise and honest. It was better like that to have finally drawn a line under maternity, what was left of it. It was better like that to give a second chance to Stanley, to go for a new and better beginning. It was better like that if nothing happened with Will – because it would have been too complicated.

"But you aren't in love with him!"

Eager to turn the page over what had looked like a disastrous summer, she had finally replied to Jack's emails and accepted to see him. The truth was that she missed him, missed every single point of her life but some things would probably take a lot more time if they ever healed at all.

"I feel safe with him."

She couldn't help but smile before Jack's unconvinced face and remaining calm, she simply shrugged – took a sip of her coffee then looked in the distance at some invisible detail. She had changed lately and her impulsive temper seemed to vanish little by little as the days went by. Perhaps because she needed some new references to begin with this second life.

"What is love, anyway, honey...?"

"So this is what you are going to become, one of these people who pretend that there isn't love?"

"No. I simply believe that the notion of love isn't necessarily the key to the success of a marriage. After so many years of experience, I guess I know what I am alluding to. The passion goes away at some point and what is left from it? This sensation of being safe, reassured and comfortable. The rest is... A bonus, if it ever exists at all."

Wisdom didn't suit her. It slid along her lips with the sound of irony and bitterness, adopting the shades of artificiality before crashing loudly in the air. She hid the poor effect of her remark behind her coffee and cast a glance at a woman feeding a toddler at some table.

Sometimes she wondered what her child would have looked like if she had had the possibility to get pregnant but the fantasy never went far and within a few minutes she realized that there would never be an answer to that. Then she felt sad.

"He misses you."

She laughed, openly. Jack didn't take it bad but nonetheless bent over – as if he were looking for some intimacy, adding seriousness to what he was saying – and frowned, nodded. Now that she stared into his eyes, she could notice that he had changed too. She hadn't been the only one and soon enough she began to wonder if the challenge hadn't affected them all in the end. On different degrees, and different aspects.

"He really does and so does Grace. This is just not the same anymore without you around. Something is missing - to make sense, to bring all of us some balance."

"I seriously doubt that I am the person Will and Grace want to share some time with right now. If they actually share some time together - themselves in the first place."

"They do and you know just as I do that it is all about them accepting to deal with their own frustration, their own anger towards nobody but themselves."

She was surprised that both seemed to have turned the page so quickly when in the past, they had – at times – needed a whole year to overcome a crisis. Perhaps they had talked and quietly enough come to some conclusion over the situation but as her face-to-face with Will suddenly hit her back, something hurt in her heart.

"I don't think so, honey. I really don't think so, unfortunately."

She headed back to the Upper East Side penthouse lost in a whirl of wonders that desperately tried to make connection between each other in her head but everything remained blank – as much as she made efforts. It was an odd sensation just like walking through a fog of clouds and under every single step, it seemed that her heart was about to break down into a thousand pieces but she wouldn't die of it, would not have this chance. Instead she would remain in agony for an endless time, ignored by the crowd.

As much as she didn't notice Madison Avenue and its usual boiling life, she nonetheless made it to her mansion – passed the door in silence. She abandoned her jacket on a chair and slowly enough headed to her husband's office. He was sitting there behind a large oak desk, working on some contracts. Just like any other Saturday afternoon. As he looked up, she smiled at him – Jack's last words resounding loud in her head, pounding against her heart.

"_Life is a perpetual challenge, Karen. You can't avoid it so here you go and take your chance."_

**To Be Continued...**


End file.
